"Child of War"

An Afghan child of war is what I see
sitting down there in front of me
His baba's old rifle nestled in his arm
ever ready to do his enemy harm
His eyes looking at every passing face
trying to find one out of place
He remembers the words his baba said
"Sleep is a luxury for the dead
One must do whatever it takes to survive
It's not easy here staying alive"
Words passed down to every Afghan son
as he's given his baba's old gun
In a part of this cruel world not that far away
where little children only wish they could play